The Heiress and The Thief
by fullmetalscully
Summary: Everyone has the name of their soulmate tattooed on their wrist. It appears slowly over time, but by their fifth birthday the strong, black letters become a mark which can guide someone their whole life to find the other half of their soul. M for violence.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: a birthday gift for lexi, whose birthday is today! happy birthday!**

**alternate summary: soulmate au where street boy roy meets rich girl riza**

* * *

Stealing from the rich was always a doddle. Roy grinned to himself as he heard the commotion he had left in his wake. The enraged calls, the befuddled questions, the shouts demanding answers. He vaulted over a very expensive looking mahogany desk with no regard for whatever lay upon it. If he had bothered to look, he would have seen they were expenses reports, the amounts far exceeding anything he could ever hope to earn in his lifetime.

It was probably better he didn't look.

As he rounded a corner towards the window of his escape, Roy skidded to a halt.

_Shit_.

There was someone who was standing between him and his escape, and it wasn't his blonde-haired partner for the night. A girl? No, even from behind she looked older than a girl. A young woman. Her short, blonde hair caught in moonlight streaming through the open window, the cold, winter breeze ruffling her locks, her fringe shifting so Roy briefly saw her face.

She turned to the right – to face the direction of the commotion – and Roy's breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful.

"Elizabeth!" a man hollered from somewhere in the mansion. "Ge in here, _now!_"

The woman flinched at the tone, sighing softly, unaware there was a young man watching her every move, enraptured by her beauty in the moonlight. Sensing eyes on her, she turned to peer down the gloomy hallway, freezing mid step, like a deer caught in the path of a fast-moving carriage.

"_Riza_!"

She jumped in fright after being momentarily distracted by the stranger, eyes turning worriedly towards that voice, before snapping back to face the intruder in her home. Although concerned by the fact that a possible family member of the man he'd robbed had caught Roy red handed, his stomach sunk for an entirely other reason.

Riza was the name that was tattooed on his wrist.

"Who – Who are you?" she whispered. There was no fear in her voice. It was controlled with a hint of bewilderment.

Something stirred within him upon finding out her name – and the fact that it matched the name tattooed on him.

_Could this be her?_

Riza wasn't a common name, certainly not in Amestris. Believe him, Roy had done his research. He'd yet to come across another woman who held that name. Not to mention the fact that there was a tightening of his chest, a flutter in his stomach, and a voice in his head screaming that this woman before him was The One.

_Shit_.

"I won't ask again," she warned, planting one foot slightly behind her, as if ready to fight Roy if need be. "Who are you?"

The way she spoke… This was a woman of status, clearly, so probably the daughter of Berthold Hawkeye. Judging by the house she lived in, she and her family were on the highest rung of society. The butler patrolling the floor below them as Roy and Havoc had scoped the place out confirmed that. The two doormen in expertly crafted and beautiful uniforms standing by the main entrance to the manor also confirmed that.

It was so large it didn't even have a front door, just a main entrance. They had checked, discovering doors on every cardinal side of the property. Obviously having one door and walking around a manor this size was too taxing for the rich.

Not to mention the two-mile-long driveway to said main entrance, lined with expertly trimmed trees without a leaf out of place. Roy had muttered to his partner that the square shaped trees looked stupid as hell, and Havoc snorted in response before agreeing with him.

The rich were strange creatures.

Roy swallowed.

He didn't belong in this world, even if this woman was his soul mate. He was well off, but not in the ways polite society would approve of. His Aunt ran a brothel in the centre of the city – which was _very _popular and _very _successful, thank you very much – and Roy had grown up there, making his way in the world by pouring drinks and acting as the muscle should anyone get too handsy or rowdy.

This Riza wouldn't want to be a part of that. Roy knew that for sure.

"Sir –"

"Mustang," he blurted out, forgoing the use of his first name. If she knew his real name, then Roy didn't want to deal with the fallout of having supposedly the other half of his soul turn his nose up at him. Too many people had already done that to him in his life. "The name's Mustang."

"And what are you doing in my home?" she demanded.

He liked to think of himself as a Robin Hood type hero. He took from those who already had too much, and were too tight with their cash, to give to those who needed it most. He sold whatever expensive looking thing he could get his hands on – most of the time his targets were so rich they didn't even notice their belongings were gone – and distributed the money between the orphans in the city with the help of his Aunt. He had been nicknamed "Big Brother", and while that was incredibly cute, he wished he didn't have to do it in the first place.

No one else would care for those orphans. It was the least Roy could do as an orphan himself.

Before Madame Christmas – his paternal Aunt – had found him, Roy had lied and stole to make his way on the streets for two years. The result? He had tried to steal food from his Aunt's kitchen, causing the woman to do a double take as a snarling twelve-year-old Roy wriggled in one of her bodyguard's grip, demanding to be let go. The Madame had just chuckled in disbelief, ordered him to be dropped. Before Roy could run, she had him by his dirty collar, ordering him to go wash up for dinner. And that was the end of his time on the streets.

"If I told you the truth, you wouldn't be very happy about it," he smirked, relaxing his stance to show he thought he was in control here. Hopefully that would put this heiress on edge. In truth his eyes flicked towards the window as he mentally calculated his next nearest exit from the plans Hughes had gotten a hold of the other night.

"Try me."

Surprised by her words and confident tone, Roy shrugged and decided to indulge her as he leaned against the wall casually, hooking one ankle over the back of the other. "I stole something from your father, and I don't think he's very happy about it." Roy took a step forward, noting how the woman tensed. "Now, if you wouldn't mind –"

He was cut off by another roar, her father calling her name once more. It even made goose flesh rise on Roy's flesh. He raised an eyebrow at her reaction, noticing the slight hint of fear on her face.

Then the footsteps began to sound closer.

He needed to go. He needed to go _now_.

Roy strode towards the window but was stopped by a restraining hand on his chest. Riza, eyes wide and expression earnest, shook her head frantically and grabbed his hand. Opening his mouth to protest, Riza shushed him as loudly as she dared. A hidden doorway opened to their left, revealing a cupboard space with two shelves above head height, both holding two stacks of white towels.

It was also big enough to hide two people.

Riza tugged him inside.

Well, _just_ big enough for two people, if said two people's bodies were pressed against each other _dangerously _closely, their breaths mingling together in the dim space.

_Shit_…

She was too close. It was wreaking havoc on his mind.

Tilting his chin downwards, Roy almost bumped it against her head. He had to tilt his whole head to the side to avoid colliding with her own if he wanted to look up or down. His eyes met hers, questioning her with his expression and his eyes, asking exactly _why_ she had pulled them into here to hide.

Riza shook her head, lifting a finger atop her lips to indicate he should remain quiet.

Unfortunately, said hand brushed against his abdomen and Roy's intake of breath was incredibly noticeable in the cramped space.

Before he had a chance to react to that with embarrassment, a shadow passed by a tiny slit in the doorway, revealing a bearded man with long, blonde hair storming passed, followed by two other men. One was average height with short, cropped black hair. The other was of similar height, but slimmer build, his black hair also short while sporting ridiculous looking moustache.

"Sir, if I may –"

"No, you may not, Marco," the blonde man growled as they passed through the hallway. "I want security in there _now_ and I want my documents found."

The noise of their conversation trailed off as they moved through the mansion. Barely daring to breathe – partly in fear of being discovered, the other in fear of inhaling this woman's' tantalising aroma – Roy waited for her to make the first move.

That was a mistake because for Riza to move she had to press her body hard against his, a hand braced on his chest, to reach for the handle, something Roy stupidly realised had been on his side all along. Again, he held his breath, closing his eyes against the image and sensations against his body. They were squeezed shut, blocking out the smell of her hair and perfume which complimented each other nicely. Some of her short hair brushed against his cheek. His knees shook.

This soulmate stuff was bullshit and he hated it.

As soon as Roy piled out he put as much distance between them as possible. He made a beeline for his initial escape route, desperate to get out of here and away from _her_.

"Wait –" she whispered, and Roy turned around. He cursed himself, unable to stop the movements. Whatever bond they shared apparently had control over him right now and this was _not_ what he needed. "What did you take?"

"That doesn't concern you, my lady," Roy replied, voice strained from their brief spell in that cupboard.

Riza's expression softened, a lovely smile gracing her features. "Well, I hope it brings him hell."

Roy blinked in surprise, that reply wholly unexpected.

"_Riza_!" her father screamed again, voice breaking with his anger.

Roy feared what would await her, should she finally approach her father. He wanted to stay, felt an inexplicable urge to remain here to protect her from the raging man. From his tone in the way he called for her, it would be nothing good.

But he couldn't get caught. He was a good thief, but that was something the Madame made abundantly clear to all her staff, even if Roy was her own flesh and blood.

If they got caught, they held no affiliation to the Madame whatsoever. They were working towards a better world, to give those who struggled most in poverty a chance at a better life, but if they were found out, those in power and those who had the most to lose – the rich and famous – would put an end to their operation.

Turning away was hard as he sprinted for the open window. He nimbly climbed out, taking a deep breath of the cold night air to try and clear his head.

"My name is Riza," she called softly out the window as Roy deftly descended the tree.

Oh, he knew her name all right. He knew because it had been tattooed on his skin for the last twenty-seven years of his life. Since he was two years old.

He knew, because he felt the lingering feeling of her hand brushing against his abdomen in that closet, had revelled in the closeness they had shared while his soul sung, happy to have finally found its missing piece.

Too bad she would never want to be a part of his world, and he would never be permitted into hers.

Roy chuckled humourlessly to himself as he broke into a sprint, hoping the strenuous exercise would burn all thoughts of the woman he was leaving behind.

It didn't work.

* * *

"What's got your underwear in a bunch?" Hughes demanded from Roy's left, piling his plate high with mashed potatoes, topping it off with gravy. Havoc sat to his right, oblivious to Roy's mood because there was now food in front of him.

"Nothing."

Hughes snorted. "I beg to differ."

"It's nothing," Roy ground out, picking at his own food.

"Roy," the Madame barked. Other people at the table jumped at the sudden rise in volume, but Roy was used to it now. "Stop playing with your food and eat it. I didn't spend hours cooking just for you to stab at it," she glared. "And elbows _off_ the table."

Sighing, Roy removed his head from leaning against his closed fist. His arm thumped heavily into his lap as he lifted a forkful of roast beef to his mouth. After tonight his appetite was completely gone.

"We need to go back to that Hawkeye house," Hughes stated. "We –"

Roy's stomach sank, the knot in it twisting painfully, but Hughes was cut off.

"No business talk at the table," the Madame barked, glaring at Hughes, who shrivelled underneath it. "This is family time."

"Yes ma'am," Havoc muttered under his breath. Hughes snorted loudly and even Roy cracked a smile.

"Care to share with the rest of the class, Jean Havoc?" Christmas asked evenly.

_Boy, he's in trouble now._

"No, ma'am," he replied, all sass gone from his tone.

"I didn't think so," she sniffed.

Chatter around their large table picked up once the scolding was over. The bar was closed tonight, it was a Monday and they never had anyone in for food on a Monday evening, so the Madame dubbed this day as family dinner night years ago. Maes Hughes and Jean Havoc weren't technically family, but they were like brothers to Roy and that was enough for his Aunt. Others around their table included the ginger, portly man Heymans Breda, the tall, greying Vato Falman, and the young, fresh faced, new to their game, Kain Fuery. The Hughes family was also fully present, Gracia Hughes sitting next to the Madame and chatting away happily while Elicia Hughes ate her food without complaint all by herself – something she was very proud of. Every so often she would look over at her father and "Uncle Roy" and beam, the epitome of pride. The only thing that would draw a smile from Roy was the sight of Elicia kicking her feet in her high chair happily as she laughed to herself.

Other members around the table were the woman who worked for the Madame. She was an expert in dealing with information, and these woman – Roy's "sisters", they had dubbed themselves while he was growing up – were also experts in their chosen skill set. Roy was proud of each and every one of them for all they had done with their lives and the skills and knowledge they had obtained. They were orphans and outcasts, or woman who'd had some run in with the law – the Madame had managed to wrangle them out of those situations somehow and Roy wasn't sure he wanted to know how – but they had taken the second chance offered to them with eager hearts and made something of themselves. That was all the Madame asked of those she took under her wing; respect the chance they had been given and in turn work your ass off to make something of yourself. They were all good people and Roy couldn't have asked for a better family to surround himself with.

After dinner they retired to the lounge while the Madame and some of the girls entered the bar to work for the evening. Conversation turned towards their work from a few hours ago, and Roy felt that knot in his stomach tighten again unpleasantly.

Regardless of whether or not work pulled Roy back to that home, he knew he would return. He felt a terrible pull back to that woman and no matter how much he tried to squash it down and force it out of his mind, there was no stopping it. It was akin to a burning thirst and would only be satisfied when he was in her company again.

Finding his soulmate wasn't going as he had imagined it would.

Secondly, he wanted to know she was okay after hearing the way her father called for her. And, finally, Roy wanted to know why she'd done it. Why had she helped him hide? Why had she wished hell upon her own father?

Another part of him wondered if Riza felt anything similar. She didn't know his real name, and some people say the connection doesn't fully form until the person's name is known, but did she feel this pull towards him?

Only one way to find out.

"Roy," Hughes barked, brow furrowed as he stared at his oldest friend. "Have you heard _anything_ I've just said?"

"No," he replied truthfully. "Sorry."

"What is _up_ with you?" Hughes asked, frustrated, and understandably so.

"Noth –"

"Bullshit," Havoc piped up, his own expression mirroring Hughes'.

_Whoops_.

Roy sighed heavily, deciding now was a good a time as ever. If he wanted to go back and see her – not that he should, he just knew she wouldn't want to be associated with the likes of him – he would need his friend's help and they deserved to know why they were risking their necks to help him.

He rolled up his sleeve and revealed the tattoo on his wrist. Both men peered at the black letters, failing to see the significance of the word.

"Riza? And?" Hughes asked. "You've had that for years."

"Wait…" Havoc began, trailing off as he wracked his brain. No doubt going back to the meeting they'd had yesterday when Breda revealed the mansion's plans and informed them of the people residing there.

Berthold Hawkeye and his daughter, Riza.

Roy had glazed over the names, more focussed on the blueprints than anything else. After all, the people weren't important. What was important was the package he was being sent in to retrieve.

Not that he knew the contents, that was for the Madame's eyes only.

Now it came rushing back unpleasantly like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head.

"As in, Riza Hawkeye?" Havoc stated into the silent room. "The _heiress_?" Roy nodded, pulling his sleeve back over that cursed tattoo.

Hughes chuckled while Havoc whistled lowly. "Oh boy. You're in trouble," Hughes commented.

"Don't you think I know that?" Roy snapped, rounding on his friend. He stood and strode over to the liquor cabinet, roughly pulling a decanter of whisky from within. He took two shots, trying to get rid of this ache in his chest with the burn.

It didn't work.

"So," Hughes began casually standing from his chair and stretching. "We're going back?"

Roy didn't expect Hughes to say that. "What?"

"We're going back," he replied, arms lowering back to his side as he straightened. Roy laughed in disbelief. Hughes was speaking as if that course of action was obvious.

"No."

"Uh, yes we are," Hughes reassured him. "Right, Havoc?"

"Hell yeah."

Hughes was all right, he had met his soulmate years ago. Over time the black writing on his wrist had turned to gold, same with Gracia's. Havoc still hadn't met his yet, the name Rebecca a constant reminder of the woman he was trying to find.

"And why would an heiress want to associate herself with the likes of us?"

Havoc scoffed. "Speak for yourself," he muttered under his breath.

"We're thieves," Roy reminded them. "We stole from her _father_," he added, neglecting to mention how she didn't seem to care and genuinely encouraged Roy to take said item. "Why would we be welcome?"

"You're her soulmate."

"Polite society wouldn't see it that way."

"Who gives a fuck about polite society?" Havoc asked, lighting up a cigarette. "If anything, you would be doing this woman a favour, saving her from that lot."

"We won't know until we talk to her, so we're going back," Hughes added, clapping Roy on the back cheerily. He grunted at the painful impact, the whisky in his glass almost spilling.

"We're not," Roy bit out. A lie.

"We _are_. Or, Havoc and I can go back without you if you want to wallow in "what ifs" and "this will never happens"." Hughes waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "We can talk to the fine young lady and reveal your secret."

"No thank you," Roy cut in immediately, pressing the whisky glass into a laughing Hughes' hands as he began to pace.

Was he really considering this? Of course, there was a massive chance she may not approve of him. Not that Roy cared what other people thought of him – living on the streets burned that nonsense out of him years ago – but the thought of the other half of his soul rejecting him may sting a little.

Okay, a lot.

And he couldn't get out of his head how she had encouraged him and didn't seem fazed by the fact he was stealing from her. She obviously knew he was a thief. He had admitted that, but she didn't recoil.

Instead she pulled him into a _very_ close quarters hiding spot and waited with bated breath while her raging father passed by, motioning for him to be silent.

That damned hiding spot. His abdomen still tingled from her touch hours ago. He could still smell her shampoo.

She had helped him.

_Fuck._

He really _was_ in trouble.

"Mustang," Havoc called to him, pulling him from his thoughts. Both his friends were standing in between the seating area, watching Roy as he moved. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"You're both soulmates. She won't turn you away."

"We'll see about that," Roy muttered, sighing. He nodded in agreement to this crazy plan, causing both his friends to grin and share a look.

"Our baby boy is growing up," Hughes sniffed, wiping at a "tear" as he reached to ruffle Roy's hair.

"Shut it, Hughes," Roy growled, ducking and leaving the room to the sound of their laughter.

* * *

**this ended up just shy of 11k lmao it spiraled way out of control but i'm ok with it**


	2. Chapter 2

Roy felt his heart clench in his chest when the first blow struck Riza's face. He was moving before he knew what he was doing, ignoring Hughes and Havoc hissing at him to stay down, grabbing desperately at his arms as he burst up from a crouch.

The only thing occupying his mind was the fact that Berthold had just struck his daughter.

She accepted the blow, her face snapped to the side so that Roy could see her profile. There was no expression on her face. One single tear tracked down her cheek and that was what did it for Roy. He was up and moving at the sight of that tear.

"The surveillance team told me you let the thief go. _Where are they?_"

"I don't know," she replied, voice monotone.

Before Berthold could lower his raised hand, Roy launched himself through the glass, blasting it into a thousand different directions. In the moment of surprise, he tackled Berthold to the ground. Lifting his body up, Roy reared his arm back, punching him in the face.

That was satisfying.

"Shit, Mustang," Hughes sighed exasperatedly. "Did you have to make such a mess?" Glass crunched underneath their feet, by Roy couldn't hear it. All he could hear was the roaring of blood in his ears, the anger pumping his heart in his chest.

"Apologies, my lady," Hughes announced quietly. "If you would please," Roy vaguely heard him utter urgently.

Roy unsheathed a knife and slammed it into the wooden floor, pinning Berthold Hawkeye to the ground through the rich fabric of his suit. His eyes met Roy's dark ones, his face obscured by his cowl, disbelief and fury plain as day on his face.

Not to mention the blood from his no doubt broken nose.

"Don't you fucking touch her like that," Roy growled, lowering his face to Berthold's so he was mere inches away. The older man tried to struggle to get free, but one of Roy's knees was on his chest.

"_Get off me_," he seethed.

"Not until the lady is safe."

"And who are you supposed to be?"

"Someone with basic human decency," Roy replied, slamming the pommel of his other knife in Berthold's face, knocking him out cold.

"Mustang, let's go!" Havoc urged. Roy spun and stood in one fluid movement, springing back across the room to the window, grasping Havoc's outstretched hand. After hauling his friend through the space, dodging the jagged glass on either side of the frame, both men sprinted across the grass to meet up with Hughes. He had the Lady Riza's hand as they ran to a maze part of the garden, taking cover behind the foliage on offer as they waited for Havoc and Roy to catch up.

As they approached Riza perked up at the sight of him, eyes wide in shock and another emotion that Roy couldn't identify. She begun to stand, and when Hughes gently grasped her shoulder telling her to keep low, she shrugged out of it and walked forward to meet him. She slowed to a stop, expression one of wonder as she looked at Roy.

"You… You came back," she whispered.

Roy tried to ignore how happy it made him to see Riza looking at him like she was.

"My lady, _please_," Hughes urged, gently taking her wrist in his hand. Riza didn't even turn to look at him she wrenched herself free, taking another step towards Roy.

Roy saw something glint in the moonlight to their left. He launched himself at her, wrapping his arms around Riza's waist while she gasped in surprise. The arrow clipped his back, but his armour was thick enough it didn't penetrate it. He heard the leather rip, but his back remained pain free. He turned as he grasped Riza's waist so that he landed first, taking the brunt of the blow. He landed with a painful grunt, but his hold remained.

The pair skidded behind the perfectly trimmed hedges in the maze, landing at Hughes' feet. For a split second they just stared at each other. Roy's dark, black irises met her whisky coloured ones and the only thing he could think of was how he wanted to lose himself in those eyes.

"Lovebirds, any time today," Havoc hissed, letting loose another arrow.

That was enough to break the spell.

Roy sprung to his feet, offering Riza his hand and pulled her to her feet. The whole time she never took her eyes off him.

"We need to go," Hughes urged, beckoning them hurriedly towards the cover of the trees towards the edge of the property.

"This way," Riza announced once they were under the cover of the foliage, steering them in a completely different direction.

She still hadn't let go of his hand.

It was only once they began to sprint that she appeared to remember they would move faster apart, however she stayed close to his side.

Maybe she did feel something similar.

Did he dare hope?

Riza led them to a hidden trap door in the ground and they piled in, each breathing hard after their exertion. Roy looked at every one of them, his eyes finally coming to rest upon Riza. Thankfully, his cowl covered his face so the others couldn't see the heat rising in his cheeks when he realised exactly what Riza was wearing, or lack thereof.

She was dressed in a thin nightgown which did nothing against the biting winter cold which followed them even underground. Shirking out of his jacket, he offered it to his soulmate.

"Here," he murmured, draping it over her shoulders. She appeared to be very thankful for the sudden warmth, because she burrowed herself inside of it, closing her eyes as she accepted the protection against the chill.

Roy ignored the way that sight made him feel.

Bordering on ecstatic.

"Thank you," she breathed, offering him a beautiful smile.

As Roy nodded mutely and pulled away, he ignored the pointed stares from Havoc and Hughes and missed the way they grinned at each other.

Roy didn't allow anyone to talk further, as if fully realising the impact of what they had done tonight. He had been careless. He had punched Berthold Hawkeye in the face, and it would look like he'd kidnapped the Hawkeye heiress.

_Shit._

"Let's go," he muttered, turning away from the other three and striding ahead, desperate to find a way out of this whole he had just dug himself because he let his emotions get the better of him.

He wasn't sorry he had retuned and gotten her out of that house, but Riza may not feel that way. She was grateful, but would she want to come with them? This plan was entirely improvised and short-term.

There was no future for them. Not really. They were too different and from two different worlds. It would never work in the long-term. Roy couldn't offer her what she needed. He was a lowlife – there was no other word for it. An heiress doesn't fall in love with a lowlife. A thief.

When he had discussed his predicament with the Madame the night before – the day after he'd stolen information from Berthold – she had said as much. Not out of malice, but out of concern so that he wouldn't end up hurt and heartbroken.

"_I want you to be happy, Roy boy,_" she had explained in a rare moment of softness. His Aunt was gruff in every sense of the word, opting for the use of tough love rather than coddling him, but she had her moments. "_And I'm afraid this venture will end in nothing but heartbreak for you_."

"_I know_," he had muttered, rubbing his hands tiredly over his face. He jumped when the Madame gave his hand a quick squeeze in comfort.

"_You never know what will happen. It may work. However, be careful. These people only care about themselves_." Riza didn't give him the impression that she was an airhead heiress, only caring about money and status, but when raised in that environment without any other way of knowing better, it was difficult to change one's mind.

"_I will, Aunt Chris. Thank you_."

"_Take care of yourself, Roy boy. First and foremost._"

"Pardon my friend's rudeness," Hughes stated behind Roy. He could feel the corner of his lips pull into a snarl. "My name is Maes Hughes, my lady."

"Jean Havoc, my lady," his other friend greeted, and Roy could picture the grin on his face.

"Please," she replied, voice earnest but quiet. "Call me Riza. None of this lady nonsense."

"Of course," Hughes replied, and Roy could hear the uncertainty in his tone.

"Guys, let's _go_," he urged, not turning back.

"Please excuse _Mustang_," Havoc stressed. Roy could picture the glare now. He also mentally fucking _dared_ Havoc to give Riza his real name. That was for him to reveal, and him only.

Once he had figured out what the hell kind of mess he'd just gotten himself into.

Hughes and Havoc chatted to Riza on the way back to the bar. Her replies weren't often, but she did engage. The sound of her laughter as Havoc told some dumb joke was music to his ears, but Roy was using the excuse he was scouting ahead to make sure it was safe, which was true and good practice, but it was also a coward's excuse.

The Madame took one look at Riza when they arrived and whisked her into the lounge, sitting her right next to the fire. She barked for Rachael – the bar's in-house medic – to come right through and see to Riza at once, checking her cheek over. It was still bright red, now even worse after being out in the biting cold of the winter night.

Riza still had Roy's jacket clutched tightly against her shivering form and he wanted nothing more than to walk over there and wrap his arms around her.

_Why_? he scolded himself angrily. Shifting in place, he schooled his emotions. Riza's eyes flicked over, catching the movement out the corner of her eye.

Once checked over and given the all clear, the Madame all but pressed Riza into his arms.

"You got her into this mess, you make sure she's well cared for," she warned, eyeing him carefully.

Roy swallowed and nodded all the same.

"I… I apologise for my distance after we…"

They were in the guest room next door to his bedroom. Riza had looked around the small, bare, room and Roy got the feeling she was expecting something much grander. They hadn't discussed what had happened tonight at all. Roy had basically abducted her from her home. He had no idea her thoughts on the situation. So much had happened in such a short time frame that even Roy struggled to keep up with it all.

"You rescued me tonight," Riza supplied simply, expression expectant as she stated the plain truth.

Roy rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah. About that –"

Riza waved her hand, dismissing his worries. "Do not fret." She smiled warmly at him, expression turning almost shy.

Roy's stomach sunk. Even the way she spoke…

They were too different.

_This will never work_.

"You did me a favour," Riza continued, oblivious of Roy's inner turmoil. I meant what I said when I hoped you would give my father hell."

He felt anger spike inside him at the memory of her being slapped so hard her head snapped to the side. The sound echoed unpleasantly in his head. He almost revealed right there and then the reason for his "rescue", but Riza yawned and her eyelids drooped.

Feeling like a coward, Roy was incredibly relieved. He had avoided this conversation for a second time.

"Get some sleep," Roy replied, his voice turning gentle. Riza nodded as her eyes drooped again. "We can discuss things in the morning. That is, uh, if you are comfortable staying here?" he stuttered uncertainly.

"Of course," she smiled warmly, soothing Roy's fears.

_Okay, problem one sorted tonight. Tomorrow is a future problem_.

"Thank you, for tonight, Mustang. I…" A light blush appeared on her cheeks and Roy thought it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

God, he had only known about her for _two days._

He would need to ask Hughes to find out if things were this quick with him and Gracia.

Perhaps that wasn't the best idea. He was such a romantic, he was probably in this deep after ten minutes.

"I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," Roy replied as he turned to face the door to leave. He glanced back over his shoulder to shoot her a smile, but she was already lying on her side, facing the wall, her back to him.

What really made him stop, drawing his attention, was the writing on her wrist.

_Roy_.

* * *

"Holy shit," Roy muttered the next morning as he paced. "Holy shit."

"I feel like we've already established that," Havoc replied, taking a slice of toast and putting it on his plate. "And that much was obvious if you're her soulmate."

"I know…" he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I didn't expect it to be true." _It was too good to be true_.

Not that it mattered now.

He'd basically kidnapped the woman from her home. Roy wasn't sorry about punching her father in the face and saving her from another strike, but Riza had yet to reveal her thoughts on the matter. _Roy_ had yet to broach the subject.

He had left her last night with the promise in his mind that they would discuss all of this in the morning, but the anxiety in his stomach pushed him towards chickening out.

Was it so wrong that he didn't want the other half of his soul to reject him, just because of who he was?

It was a basic fact that while Riza had been born at the top of society, Roy had been born at the bottom. Where did that leave them? It was truly cruel of fate to put him in this situation.

Because he knew he was already falling for her even after this short time.

It was clear in the way pure anger burned in his veins when he saw his father strike her. The way he felt true fear when he saw her injured. The way butterflies blossomed in his stomach when his hand brushed over his abdomen, even over his armour.

The way his heart leapt when she smiled at him.

He was in deep and he was in big trouble.

Now all he had to do was have said conversation.

Hughes was running perimeter with Falman, taking Fuery along for the ride for some experience. Breda was out on surveillance, so it was just Havoc and Roy having breakfast together. The Madame had been informed of Riza's situation and was watching from the front of the bar. She would notify them should any trouble come knocking.

"_Just try and let him take that girl back_," she had sniffed, placing a hand on her hip as she watched Rachael check Riza's face.

So, once Havoc was finished eating, Roy had all the time in the world to broach the subject.

He just needed not to chicken out.

"Well, believe it," Havoc stated very helpfully, biting into unbuttered toast. Roy stopped and looked at him with an odd look.

"Dry toast? You're a psychopath."

"Kidnapping your soulmate? _You're_ a psychopath."

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a quiet, female voice.

"Soulmate?"

Roy froze, feeling every ounce of blood drain from his body.

_Oh, shit! Not now. Not like this. Shit!_

"You're… You're…"

Riza trailed off and Roy watched as Havoc froze, toast still in his mouth. Without another word he pulled lifted his coffee cup, his plate laden with food and booked it out of the room, his toast still in his mouth.

"Are you Roy?" Riza asked finally.

The question he had been desperate for since he met her, but equally dreaded because yes, he was, and Riza Hawkeye was his soulmate, but he was a thief, a lowlife.

"Yes." His mouth was dry. Roy swallowed, turning to face the beautiful woman who owned half of his soul.

"I… I can't believe it," she whispered in awe. Then her eyes flicked back up to his, face becoming expressionless.

Roy's stomach dropped.

"This… This is a lot to take in," she finally said.

Roy understood those words. It was a kind way of saying "_holy shit, no thank you, bastard_". He nodded, his head bobbing once, twice, then a third time.

Accepting his fate needed to be done quickly because Hughes entered the room armed to the teeth and looking thoroughly unamused. The Madame entered afterwards, followed by a group of girls who looked extremely worried.

"What's wrong?" he asked, dread pooling in his stomach.

"It seems we have some visitors," the Madame replied coolly, gaze turning towards Riza.

_Oh… No._

"Stay here," he commanded, striding forwards to enter the bar. Hughes was hot on his heels.

"Wait!" Riza called but the Madame cut her off.

"You ought to come with us, my lady," Roy heard her reply, but there was a hardness in her voice. Surely, she couldn't think… _Surely_ not.

But his Aunt had every right to be suspicious. Two nights ago, they had brought this strange girl to the bar – an _heiress_ of all people, to a brothel – and now trouble turns up at her door.

As Roy walked into the bar and Berthold Hawkeye stared right back at him, his anger spiked as he remembered what the man had done to his daughter.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me," he purred, eyes calculating Roy's every movement. He wanted to yell that Riza didn't belong to him, but Roy had played this game many times.

"Anything in particular? I have a lot of things," Roy replied casually, rounding behind the bar. He poured himself a whisky, lifting the bottle in a silent offering to Hughes. His friend had his hip propped against one of the support beams by the bar, arms crossed casually across his chest. His black leather armour barely whispering as he moved.

Hughes turned down the offer of the drink.

Roy shrugged, as if to say, "_suit yourself_", and took a sip of the liquor, relishing in the way it burned down his throat. Good. It would put a fire in his veins to fight this bastard. The goons behind Berthold bristled at the nonchalant way he and Hughes carried themselves, unaffected by the show of power in the room.

"You know fine well what, scum," Berthold growled.

Roy rounded the bar to face the man, holding his carefully crafted air of nonchalance. As if on cue, a rat ran across the top of the bar and the man recoiled. Roy would have laughed if his knife wasn't embedded in the wood, skewering the man's suit once more, forcing his eyes on Roy and not the sudden noise from the back room.

Apparently, Vanessa had let one of her pets out again. Or, little Bradley had chewed through something and escaped again. That definitely seemed likely. He was a crafty one, to be sure, and Roy's favourite out of her four pet rats.

"I want you and your goons out of my bar," Roy hissed in his face. "I know jack shit about what you're talking about and I don't like what you're implying." Roy lifted the knife, straightening as he eyed Berthold. "Get the hell off my property."

The men behind Berthold sprung into action. Before they could even get to Roy each had a throwing knife embedded in one of their arms, and they cried out in pain. Roy took care of the other two, flicking two of his own knives in their direction, hitting their throats. They fell to the floor with a _thump_. Berthold – who had looked so confident with his smirk a second ago – looked bewildered.

Roy smirked at him and that was the last straw.

He was a quick one, Roy would give him that, and he could appreciate the dirty tactic because Roy frequented a few himself. However, he didn't appreciate the piercing pain in his abdomen as something sharp poked out of his back.

"_Roy!_" he heard Hughes yell.

Then the metal was gone, leaving air to painfully rush over his wound. Blinking in confusion, Roy brought a hand to his side as a frown appeared on his face. There was a _thud_ behind him, but he was barely paying attention. Roy couldn't, because when he pulled his hand away it was flush with blood. It dripped from his fingertips onto the floor beneath them.

"Stop!" a woman whispered. Roy lifted his head, feeling his knees buckle underneath him. Riza stood watching him, eyes wide, tears streaming down her face.

"Roy," Hughes whispered as he begun to fall.

Why was everyone whispering?

Someone caught him before he could hit the ground, but their touch wasn't gentle in the slightest. A hand circled around his neck, closing tight and cutting off his airway, while another restrained both his hands. Hughes cried out beside him, but it was muted.

"Stop it," Riza whispered again.

Roy gasped in pain as the pinning of his arms opened his wound further. Stars danced in his vision from both the wound and the lack of oxygen.

"I'll go with you, just… Leave them alone. They did nothing wrong."

Roy groaned as the pressure on his arms increased. "Riza," he garbled, but that was as far as he got. She couldn't, she _couldn't_ go back with him. He would hurt her and Riza deserved so much more than that.

His vision turned a blinding white as the man behind him tightened his grip once more. He was close to passing out.

He needed to concentrate.

Where was Riza?

She was standing in front of Roy, blocking his view of Berthold.

Was she okay?

There wasn't a mark on her that he could see, but Berthold was clearly dangerous. Roy need to _get out_, he needed to _fight_ –

He bit back a yell as pain rushed through him. Roy's eyes squeezed shut so he missed how Riza's shoulders tensed in response to his strangled cry. Panting, he focussed on the words. The conversation was easier to focus on than this agony in his side. It was broken, his wound affecting his ability to concentrate fully on what was currently happening around them.

"You don't belong here," Berthold stated.

"Yes, father."

"You will come home at once."

"Yes, father."

Roy wanted to hurtle towards Berthold with a yell. He wanted to thrash against this man's hold on him. All that left him was a strangled groan.

"No," Roy ground out. He twisted in the hold. He had one good move left in him and he wouldn't let that bastard hurt Riza again.

The hold on him was too strong.

A loud, pained yell left him. His eyes opened blearily as a reflex to see Riza and her father staring at him, the former with worry and tears in her eyes, the latter with a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Ah, so I see how it is," he purred. Berthold's hand reached out and snatched her wrist. Roy snarled – well, tried to – as she whimpered in pain, Berthold twisting it roughly. He looked at her tattoo and smirked. "How cute," he spat, dropping her wrist. "Let's go, Riza." Berthold nodded to the two men.

Roy hit the floor painfully. He gasped in agony, almost blacking out. His vision greyed as he gasped for breath, aggravating his injury.

"Roy!"

He couldn't tell if that was Riza or Hughes. Suddenly there were hands on him, and Roy tried to struggle only to find Hughes instead.

"I've got you man, I've got you. Lie still, please. You'll be okay."

His head was lifted onto something soft – Hughes' thighs.

"Wait, can I –?"

Roy's eyes slowly found Riza. They were at the door, just about to leave. Berthold had a tight grip on Riza's wrist, pulling her resisting body out of the Madame's bar. He stirred as Hughes held his shoulders gently down, stopping him from hurting himself further.

"What?" Berthold barked. Scoffing, he violently dropped her wrist without looking back. "Make it quick," he sniffed. "I don't want to be here any longer than necessary." Roy felt his blood boil as he turned his nose up at his home.

_Bastard_.

Riza rushed over to him, dropping to her knees. The clothes she had borrowed from the Madame – much more functional for fighting than for a lady, like herself – were beginning to soak up the blood. _His_ blood. Her hands brushed away his fringe from his face and Riza bent her head, pressing her forehead against.

"Don't go," he whispered fearfully, truly scared this would be the last time he would ever see her.

"I… We haven't known each other for very long," she whispered back, her tears wetting his face. She pulled away and looked into his eyes, her emotions plain as day within those whisky coloured orbs. "But you _are_ my soulmate. I've known that since I met you."

"Riza –"

"I love you, Mustang," she smiled softly, placing a kiss against his forehead. "I don't know how it is possible so soon, but I truly do. I feel like I've known you my whole life. I feel whole now, and it's all thanks to you."

Berthold scoffed behind them and Roy fought the urge to drag himself up off the floor and tear the man's head off. Riza didn't even appear to have noticed.

"I love you too," he replied, cupping her cheek with his hand.

He knew that fact better than he knew his own name.

This woman was the other half of his soul, no doubt about it.

His hand took an age to reach its destination – the movement extremely painful – but it was worth it. Of course, it was. But even that marred her perfect face with his blood, he realised with horror. As he begun to recoil, Riza trapped his hand in place, grasping his wrist and pressing his hand back against her cheek.

She turned her head and kissed his palm right as the light began to fade from the room. "Take… Take care of yourself."

He felt, rather than saw, her nod. A set of lips were pressed gently against his own and that was when his tears started.

Roy didn't want her to leave. He was in agony, but he would rather live in that moment with Riza forever and endure the pain rather than the endless black that was awaiting him. It creeped in at the edges of his vision, threatening to take him at any moment.

No, not until Riza was out of his sight.

If this was all he was going to get with his soulmate then he would endure and make the most of it.

His one regret was he would be leaving her behind.


	3. Chapter 3

Roy felt the pull of the darkness and almost gave in. He received a jolt, a rude awakening, when a commotion started before him where he lay bleeding out on the Madame's floor. His eyes roughly dragged open just in time to see Riza stab her father through the heart with a dagger that looked frighteningly familiar.

It was his.

The black, intricately carved handle with the sharp blade had been by his side since he was on the streets, so he knew it anywhere. Why did Riza have it in her hands? It should be at his hip, but there was a noticeably missing weight there.

Oh… _Holy shit_.

"Riza!" Hughes cried in surprise. They both looked on, shocked, as Berthold slumped to the floor. The two men who had restrained Roy and Hughes were next, each with a knife in their chests. Riza turned her back on them in an instant, not even waiting for the light to fade from their eyes, before she was by Roy's side, both hands gripping his face.

"Roy? Can you talk to me? I need you to respond."

This… This was someone completely different to who he had come to know over the last few days. She was in control, she was determined, and she was frantic, but calculated in her movements.

She had also just murdered her own father.

_Holy shit!_

If his mouth would cooperate, he would exclaim that out loud, but he was still fading, and fast.

"Roy!" she barked. He groaned in response and there was a tight pressure on his wound. Through fading eyesight, he watched as Riza tied something around his torso. He also noticed that his shirt had been torn open so she could see his wound. When had that happened?

"Hold this in place," she commanded Hughes. Without hesitation, he did as was asked. Roy's head was lowered onto the wooden floor gently and he lost sight of his soulmate and his old friend. The ceiling greeted him, followed by a number of screams from his sisters as they entered the room. Riza barked out orders and there was more pressure on his side.

It had finally become too much for him, but Riza was safe, and Hughes was safe. That was all that mattered to him right now, so he put his faith in them and succumbed to the pull of the darkness.

* * *

Roy tried to turn in his sleep but was restricted by a pain in his side. Groaning, he opened his eyes blearily, and everything came rushing back to him. He was currently propped up in his bed, his upper body bare aside from the thick bandage that ran across and covered his wound.

"Roy?" someone called to his right. His head rolled to watch Riza pick herself up from the floor of his bedroom and approach his bed hurriedly. Her hand gripped his tightly without hesitation. "You're awake," she breathed.

"Riza?" His voice was hoarse, throat scratchy as he spoke. Riza offered him a glass of water which he drank readily. "You're still here?" he asked dumbly.

She gave him a small smile. "Of course," she replied, taking the empty glass from his hands. It was placed atop his bedside table, the glass catching the light from the oil lamp beside him.

"How long was I out for?"

"Three days."

She had been here for _three days_.

"How are you? Are you hurt?" he asked, becoming more alert as he scanned her body.

"Roy, I'm fine," she soothed, pushing him gently but firmly back into his nest of pillows. He didn't have the strength to resist. "So are you. You're healing nicely."

He heaved a sigh of relief, but then winced upon realising his mistake.

Riza chuckled and poured him another glass of water. She brought it to his lips and Roy drank, thinking he could get used to this being waited on hand and foot by Riza Hawkeye.

Except, the realised with a sinking feeling in his stomach, she was used to it being the other way around.

"When… When your father said –"

"He was a liar," she cut him off, voice cold.

"Hear me out, please." Roy took a deep breath, steeling himself for her reaction. He needed to give her an out, just in case she wanted it. Sure, they were tied together and sure he loved her with his entire being – something that was still mind boggling to him as they'd only known each other for a short time – but they were from different worlds. In the heat of the moment people say things, things that they may not truly mean and were only said to make someone feel better, ease their passing. Riza didn't strike him as someone who would lie – she seemed one hundred per cent genuine.

It was a chance he would give her regardless of how he felt. He was a lowlife and a thief. Maybe she didn't want to be associated with him.

"He said you don't belong here, and he was right." Her eyes flashed as they met his. "You came from somewhere so much better than here –"

"I came from a cold home where my father didn't even like me, never mind talk to me," she revealed, voice harsh. "I was unloved and locked in that house for years, an inconvenience and nothing more."

"I'm sorry."

"He only kept me alive because it would be too much trouble to stage a disappearance or kill me. Believe me, he told me that on a weekly basis."

Roy's hands clenched into fists.

"Riza, I'm _so_ sorry."

She let out a breath, closing her eyes. She was so vulnerable as she did so, and Roy saw just how much pain she harboured in her heart. He vowed that _if_ she stayed, he would do everything in his power to ensure he eased that pain for her. Riza Hawkeye deserved that much after saving his life. Twice.

"We were from two different worlds, but I never belonged in my father's one. You came from love and support and what I would give to be a part of that." She blushed and Roy's eyes widened slightly at her admission. Riza coughed, excusing her boldness and Roy chuckled in response.

However, there was a question knowing at him. A question about the future.

"What will happen now that… Now that he's gone?" Roy asked.

"The Madame and I dealt with the body, if that's what you're asking," she smiled wryly, picking up on his hesitation. Her expression sobered before she continued. "She… Well, we dealt with it. Let's just leave it at that at the moment." Her face turned pained for a split second before she got her emotions under control.

"Okay," Roy agreed. That was fair enough, she _did_ kill the man. Roy knew there was no pleasure derived from such a task and he didn't want to push her.

The other question was just _how_ she had managed it.

The woman he had spent time with – not that it had been a _long_ time – prior to Berthold's invasion of his Aunt's bar didn't appear to be capable of hurting a fly, never mind committing patricide and murdering two of his goons.

Had that all been an act?

"If… If you don't mind me asking…"

"You want to know why I killed my father?"

"Please, but only if you want to."

Riza nodded in understanding. It wasn't every day you were stabbed and then discovered your soulmate planned to kill her father.

"He… He was a bad man. A very cruel man. He did many horrible things." Roy squeezed her hand in comfort. "He got everything that came at him. Actually," she huffed a laugh. "I just realised it when I met the Madame. We had been meeting undercover and never saw each other in person, but it was the Madame who helped me arrange the whole thing." Roy frowned. His Aunt had brought Berthold _here_? "It wasn't meant to happen here though. It was meant to be an accident while he was out riding – the movement I am with worked it all out, we just needed more intelligence and some more creative input."

"Movement?" Roy queried, brow furrowing.

Riza nodded, smiling. "We have the same goal you have. Basically, take from the rich and give to the poor."

"Like Robin Hood," Roy grinned. Riza laughed, her head tilted backwards slightly, and it was the purest sound. Roy wanted to bottle it and keep it forever.

"Yes, that is one way to view it, I suppose. It helped to have someone on the inside and I didn't approve of his methods at all. I… I didn't exactly plan on stopping him here, but after what he has done to me over the years and when he stabbed you, I was more than ready. I made my peace with that years ago. He had done too much to me – not to mention to others – and it was about time I took matters into my own hands. Not just for you, but for… personal reasons too."

"I'm sorry, Riza."

"It's okay," she smiled, a long exhale leaving her lips. "You came back for me, that's what matters most. And you knew who I was, didn't you?" There was a knowing glint in her eyes, accompanied by a wry smile. "Why didn't you tell me your first name?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't want to be associated with the likes of me, so I kept it hidden."

Riza brushed his fringe off his face again, sympathetic expression on her face. "I understand your hesitation, and people in my social circles were always quick to judge, but not me. I knew as soon as I looked at you, you were my soulmate. It hit me like a punch to the stomach." She grinned. "That's why I hid you in that cupboard."

Roy chuckled, bringing their joined hands up so he could kiss the back of hers. "It was a fantastic idea."

"Glad you thought so," Riza winked.

"So, what about this movement?"

"There were others in the house who were part of the movement with me, and I have a grandfather in a high position in the government who is trying to reform it from within. It will take time, but we are confident we will get there. We want to restructure things, give those less fortunate more opportunities." Roy was impressed. This… This far exceeded anything he expected of the heiress Riza Hawkeye. "That's the gist of it."

But that was before he even met her.

"Where… Where will you go now?" Roy asked quietly, looking down at their clasped hands. His thumb brushed over her knuckles gently, eliciting a visible shiver from her.

"Wherever you go." Roy looked up and met her gaze. "But only if that's all right with you."

His side strained painfully, but he leaned forward slowly, eyes locked onto her.

"That depends," he stated, his lips brushing against her _ever _so softly. Their noses bumped together.

"On what?" she asked in return, trying to appear casual but Roy smirked at the hitch in her breath.

"May I kiss you?" he asked, opening his eyes to see her reaction.

"Of course," she murmured, gripping his shoulder gently and holding him in place as she kissed him.

* * *

"Roy!" Madelaine cried as she noticed him enter the room. The other girls whirled in the chairs and squealed in delight. Roy grinned sheepishly, Riza helping him shuffle over to the couch where the Madame currently sat. One of Riza's arms was wrapped around his waist while the other was pressed against his chest. Her fingers grazed across the bare skin around the neckline of his loose shirt and he almost shivered in delight.

"You're okay!"

"Oh, we were so _worried_!"

"Poor Riza has been by your side ever since, helping you get better."

"She's a keeper!"

Roy looked over as Valerie revealed her secret, seeing Riza blush. She helped him sit down and Roy grasped her hand as she begun to move away, refusing to let go. "She definitely is," he murmured, giving Riza's hand a squeeze, bringing it to her lips to kiss the back of it. After rolling her eyes at his grin, she took up a perch on the arm of the couch, just like his sisters across from them. They each beamed at Riza, proud and happy about what she had accomplished.

"How are you feeling?" his Aunt asked as the girls chatted animatedly to one another, excited their baby brother was now up and among the living again.

"Sore, but better."

"Good." The Madame reached across and gave his free hand a squeeze. "It's good to have you back, Roy boy."

He heard Riza snicker to his left at the use of his childhood nickname.

"Thank you, Chris."

"And thank you, Lady Hawkeye, for bringing him back to us," Vanessa piped up.

Riza shook her hand in front of her, dismissing the formality between them with a light blush. "Please, Riza is just fine. The Lady Hawkeye died many years ago."

"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that," the Madame stated, sympathy on her face. _That_ was a new look, Roy noted.

Roy looked up at his soulmate, judging the look on her face. Her sheepish look turned into one of fondness, clearly living in a memory from a long time ago. "It's okay, it was a long time ago," she replied wistfully.

So maybe her upbringing hadn't been entirely bad.

He would have to find out more when she was ready.

Ever since he'd woken up, he'd wanted to know everything about Riza Hawkeye. His soul rejoiced at the closeness they shared for the last few days. Riza never really left his side unless the Madame or one of his sisters were visiting him in his room. She briefly left – her whereabouts becoming unknown – but Roy was overjoyed to discover she would return no more than five minutes after his visitors left.

They talked about a lot; their future as soulmates, what her plan was with this movement she was working with and how he could help, what would happen now her father was no longer with them. Apparently, Riza would inherit the family home and its assets. The money would be funded back into their project to give those in poverty the money they needed to break past that line.

Roy didn't think he could fall in love with her anymore, but he did.

Since her home would be gone – good riddance, Riza had announced – she had nowhere to go. The Madame had offered her to stay her without hesitation. It was clear she and her nephew were inseparable, so why make it more difficult for them, especially after all Roy had been through.

His Aunt always had the best ideas.

Riza snapped herself back into the present with a quick shake to see Roy staring at her, and she gave him a soft smile. Roy squeezed her hand in comfort, leaning his weight – and head – against her side.

"They're so cute," Rachael stated wistfully, a sappy smile on her face as she watched Riza and Roy interact.

Roy chuckled, wrapping his arm around Riza's waist to pull her even closer, if that was at all possible.

They were both safe.

She was out of the clutches of her father, finally free of his cruelty and oppression. He was on the mend.

The tattoo on each of their wrists had already begun to lighten, Roy had noticed, turning to a burning gold colour. Right now, it reminded Roy of Riza's eyes, and when he told her she blushed and shushed him. Roy had just grinned while a chorus of "_ohhh_" and "_so cute!_" sounded in the room.

Yeah, they were going to be okay.


End file.
